Playground Love Affair
by tangle of emptiness
Summary: Rachel shouldn't have been surprised really. So many things were out of the ordinary lately that waking up with a blond Cheerio shouldn't have even fazed her. Faberry. Includes the perplexing phenomenon that is Charlie Fabray.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

If there was one thing Rachel Berry prided herself on (if we, of course, exclude her phenomenal voice and acting prowess), it was her exceptional memory, the result of many years hard exercise, following closely the instructions provided by numerous books and articles (e.g. _The Memory Book: The Classic Guide to Improving Your Memory at Work, at School, and at Play_), and her natural aptitude. Good memory was vital for her future professional success as forgetting even the most insignificant activity on her daily routine would be detrimental to her preparation for a career on Broadway (her words, not mine).

And that exactly was the reason for the utter and overwhelming horror which overtook her at the prospect of having forgotten about something important. Indeed, her complete freak-out had nothing at all to do with the fact that the "something important" was her longstanding crush on, and maybe the very existence of, one Charlotte Fabray. It was just that Charlie (as she preferred to be called) had been an essential part of Rachel's childhood, and the petite brunette was ashamed of having allowed the memory of her friend to be all but erased from her mind.

But even Rachel Berry had to admit that the previous drama-filled school year, Glee club and her newfound social life might excuse to some extent the failing of one of her brain's primary functions. That didn't make her feel better about the day she'd just gone through at the least, however.

She jumped on her bed face first and tried very hard to forget the first day of her junior year at William McKinley High School.

=P =P =P

_It would be a gross understatement to say Rachel Berry was brimming with excitement about the whole new academic year of learning that awaited before her, bringing her a bit closer to her ultimate life goal of taking over Broadway, as she walked through the school hallway. She was skipping._

_The pocket-sized brunette was moving toward her first period for the day fairly quickly, with the distinctive confidence of someone who is blissfully oblivious to all the stares they are receiving, when her body, propelled forward by the force of inertia, collided soundly with a human-sized, blond obstacle which just happened to be standing in her way, in the guise of rummaging through its locker, and sent them both sprawling on the floor._

"_Oh my God! I apologize profusely for this. I never even noticed you standing there," Rachel squealed, jerked from her daydream of future stardom by the very much unexpected crash. Her unwitting victim, who was still trapped beneath her, just groaned loudly, stunned._

_The groan incited immediate reaction from a more atavistic, albeit repressed, part of the petite singer's brain and just like that she was on the alert. Despite not having heard this particular voice all summer, the little diva knew it rather well and hurried to get off its owner._

"_Oh God, Quinn, are you injured? Did I hurt you? Do you need me to take you to the nurse? I did not remotely mean to collide with you in such fashion..."_

_The ex-cheerleader just winced up at Rachel and ignored her babbling in favor of trying to stand, but the moment her right hand touched the floor, she cried out in pain and collapsed back down._

"_Quinn!" the brunette was kneeling by Quinn's side in a flash and reaching warily towards her wrist. When the blonde didn't show any signs of biting her head off, as she was wont to do, Rachel gently cradled the injured limb in her hands and examined it carefully. "It seems to be sprained," she said when Quinn whimpered quietly at the touch._

"_Just help me up..."_

"_Jesus, RuPaul! Don't you ever watch where you're going?" the voice was coming from right behind the diva and she instinctively turned her head back to look at its source._

_Later the singer would swear that had been the worst shock of her young life (though maybe not using the exact same vocabulary), because Quinn Fabray was standing a few feet behind her, with her trademark raised eyebrow, a hand on her hip and staring down at her with mild contempt._

_It was a true miracle that the short brunette held her dismayed (or terrified) shrieks in. Her memories chose that exact second to remind her of their existence and she was yanked from the haze of the nightmare that two Quinns would entail by a name._

_Rachel nearly snapped her neck as she spun around to face the blonde whose hand she was still holding._

"_Charlie?"_

=P =P =P

The first time Mr. and Mr. Berry took their young daughter to the playground so she could interact with other children her age was one of Rachel's earliest memories. It was also something she remembered with astonishing clarity.

Leroy and Hiram had opted to sit back on a bench away from the children and try to as unobtrusive as possible while little Ray-Ray (they hoped) made new friends. They happened to live in Lima, Ohio, however, so that, unfortunately, wasn't how things had turned out, exactly.

The first kid to approach the shy tiny brunette had been young David Karofski who took the opportunity of her dads looking away to push the girl on the ground and laugh at her. It had proved to be a very wrong move, though, because it attracted the attention of one Brittany Pierce and, by extension, Santana Lopez.

Before he realized what was going on, Dave was running to his mother, clutching the shin Santana had viciously kicked, while Brittany, and Quinn and Charlie Fabray, who had been playing with the inseparable duo, knelt by Rachel trying to stop her from crying. Of course, the tears dried up pretty fast when she saw the twins, swallowed up by her curiosity.

It was the beginning of a great, drawn-out playground love affair.

It also took 16-year-old Rachel an insultingly large amount of time to remember that from that day on, she had both Fabrays wrapped tightly around her chubby little fingers.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all for the reviews. I hope you'll enjoy this part too.

Chapter 2

By the end of the week, Rachel was already feeling quite at ease with the idea of the Fabray twins, mostly due to the fact that Charlotte was by far nicer than her sister and seemed to genuinely appreciate the brunette's offered friendship. McKinley High's general population, though, had had a much harder time getting used to seeing Rachel Berry joined at the hip with someone who looked disturbingly like the newly reinstated HBIC, Quinn Fabray, and was apparently the petite singer's self-appointed bodyguard and best friend.

When she got over the initial shock of Charlie's unexpected return after three years of being practically exiled in boarding school _("Please, Rachel, I really don't want to talk about that now, but I promise I'll explain later."_) and the burning embarrassment at having sprained the girl's wrist on her first day back in school ("_Don't worry, Rach, it wasn't your fault I fell _on _it. It'll heal. And I'm left-handed anyway."_), the diva had decided it imperative that the blonde and she try to rebuild their friendship. In order to achieve that goal, the little brunette had initiated various out of school activities, such as shopping ("_But only if you promise not to make me try on any clothes."_) and movie night, in which Charlie had participated with surprising enthusiasm ("_You try being cooped up in that house with Quinn aaaall summer long..."_). So as Friday rolled around, Rachel really did feel as though she finally had a best friend and happily let herself be dragged to Puck's first party for the new school year.

The party itself was a mess of all the jocks, cheerleaders and all-around popular kids, together with the whole Glee club, crammed inside the Puckerman house and backyard, and engaging in small talk, drinking games and general promiscuous behavior. And by the time the Fabray twins arrived with Rachel in tow (much to Quinn's obvious displeasure), the merriment was in full swing.

The moment the three girls stepped through the door, Quinn went off in search of Brittany and Santana without a glance back at her sister and the petite brunette, who had opted to hang out with the other gleeks. The duo found them playing (or, some, observing) a game of beer pong around Puck's coffee table. Kurt was the first one to notice them approaching and he broke off his conversation with Mercedes to say hello.

"Good evening, Rachel and... Charlie, right?" he drawled at the newcomers, but his eyes were firmly fixed on the blonde. This attracted the attention of his fellow gossiper, who was sitting next to him on the couch, as well as the players: Mike, Matt, Tina and Artie. All of them waved in greeting and went back to the game.

"Well, I don't imagine my sister would sit and stagnate here with you all night," Charlie quipped with a playful grin and dropped next to him on the couch.

"And I am certain you are aware that my spending any extended amount of time in close proximity to Quinn Fabray would result in serious body harm for me, Kurt," Rachel started, seemingly intent on ranting the boy, and everyone in hearing range, to death. A sharp, well measured tug to her hand, however, had her falling sideways, half on the arm rest of the couch and half on top of the blonde, who proceeded to untangle their hands and wrap her arm around the singer's waist smugly. Charlie winked at Mercedes and Kurt and chuckled quietly at the looks of silent gratitude that crossed their faces.

"Talking about the devil tends to summon her, Rach. Careful," the remark caused everyone around (all the kids had been following the conversation with curiosity, despite the game which was supposed to be going on) to burst into laughter.

"Okay, Miss Witty Twin, since you seem to enjoy talking almost as much as our resident argyle-loving diva does," the male part of the gossiping duo began.

"We're sure you're gonna enjoy tellin' us what the deal with your lil' private school is," the other, more female (but possibly just as feminine) part finished.

Before Charlie had a chance to reply or even consider opening her mouth, a red plastic cup was thrust into her free hand, its contents sloshing gently.

"What she said."

Puck had approached the group unnoticed and was now leaning on the back of the coach above her, leering down at her and Rachel with a lewd grin on his face. The blonde tilted her head back slightly to raise an eyebrow his way, but then lifted the cup to her nose and sniffed the liquid inside. Evidently she was satisfied with the result of her inspection because an answering smirk lit up her face and she took a sip of whatever was in it.

"Rum? Aw, Noah, thank you so much," she said in a voice too sickeningly sweet not to be at least a bit mocking.

"Don't thank me yet, babe. Just get on with the story," the smile slipped somewhat off the boy's face. He obviously did not appreciate the use of his given name.

"There's not much of a story, really," Charlie shrugged. "My dad caught me kissing a girl. Follow a big fight and I'm being shipped off to an all-girls boarding school to avoid the public humiliation of having a gay daughter."

Rachel was the only one who didn't seem completely immobilized with astonishment. She clearly wasn't faring much better than the others, though. The dark-haired girl's hand shot up and plucked the cup out of Charlie's grasp. Then she downed its contents in one go before anyone could realize what had happened.

"Wait, you're gay?" Artie was the first one to find his words. "You're Quinn Fabray's sister and you're gay? Does she know?"

"Yes, I'm Quinn's sister. No, I'm not gay. Yes, she knows," Charlie smiled.

A bemused "_Q knows you're not gay?"_ came from somewhere above her head.

"She knows I'm bisexual," the blonde clarified.

At that Rachel snapped out of her stupor, flinging her arms around her friend's neck. The little brunette pressed herself against Charlie, now fully on the taller girl's lap, and breathed into her ear, "Oh, Char, I'm so, so sorry you had to go through all that."

Said girl, noticing Rachel's distress and feeling the wetness of tears against her skin, couldn't do nothing but wrap her arms fully around the diva and whisper back, "Hey, everything's alright now. I'm here now and mom divorced the bastard. Shhh... Come on, Rach, don't cry."

"Look what we have here. Q leaves you for one second and you get your arms full of hobbit."

That's when the three Cheerios and Finn decided to join the rest of the Glee club.

"And hi to you too. Britt, Bitch, Rainbows," Charlie nodded in acknowledgement. "Oh, and the giant. Hey, Finn, didn't see you there for a moment."

Everyone except Quinn, Santana and Finn chuckled at this greeting. Even Rachel pulled back so she could see the new arrivals. Then Kurt realized what he had heard exactly.

"Oh my goodness, did you just call Santana Rainbows?" he gasped (maybe just a bit overdramatically). The Latina in question glared at him, but he was too invested in the answer to pay any attention to her.

Charlie just smirked and squeezed Rachel's hand in her own before she responded, in a perfect imitation of Kurt's tone.

"Oh my goodness, I don't know. Maybe."

But her eyes were firmly on her twin while she did this.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Pulsing, throbbing pain. It was the reason Rachel Berry had woken up... Or the first thing she had felt upon waking up. She wasn't completely sure for she wasn't really awake, but it didn't really matter either, because the pain seemed to make up the whole universe anyway. Then, like the flare of a supernova, came the awareness that she had a body. Though that didn't improve the situation any, as said body appeared to consist of a head, from which the excruciating pain was originating, a stomach full of indescribable horrors ready to burst out, and a mouth, the inside of which felt (and tasted) like it was lined with dog hair.

All in all, Rachel wished she had stayed unconscious.

While she was lying (she had come to realize the horizontal positioning of her body after some heavy pondering) on whatever it was that she was lying on, the thought to open her eyes had briefly crossed her mind (among all the other thoughts vying for her attention, many of them on philosophical topics such as _What is Satan's last name?_ and _Do Jewish vampires avoid crosses or stars of David?_), but at that moment the pounding in her skull seemed to come from just behind her eyelids, so she didn't even try in fear of her eyeballs popping out.

Sometime later, the diva's (over)sensitive ears detected the faint click of an opening door and the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Rise and shine!" was yelled out, seemingly right into her eardrums, but most probably much farther away and in a tone much tamer that yelling.

"Shut the hell up, Charlie, or I'm gonna kill you," another, rather raspier voice growled in answer. Rachel felt its rumbling against her chest more than she heard it. There was a weight on her ribs that she was just becoming aware of. It, however, was emanating very pleasant and comforting warmth, so she decided not to concern herself with it and turn her, quite a miserable amount at the moment, energy to solving the problem of the shrieking which had hurt her brain.

"I feel inclined to agree," was what she said, and it was the most she felt capable of doing.

The shrieking voice laughed and said, "Okay, I'll come back later."

Then it left the room.

Rachel continued to lie like that for a while longer, until curiosity finally overcame her discomfort and she forced herself to move.

Now that she was somewhat focused on the present and the sensations coming from her hand (the only limb she felt like moving), the little brunette could feel that her hand was resting on the source of the warmth (mentioned above) and that this source was a human body. Further investigation (via careful dragging of her palm over the hot surface) alerted her to the fact that the human using her for a pillow was most definitely female (she encountered a bra strap on the way up). This observation was confirmed by the heap of soft, long hair in which her fingers tangled moments later.

_Yep, certainly a girl, _the singer thought when the person lying on her moaned lightly at the feeling of having their hair played with and snuggled closer to her, effectively pressing a pair of breasts against Rachel's torso.

And effectively waking Rachel up.

=P =P =P

_Okay, breathe, Berry. You know you're in Charlie's bed, in Charlie's room._

Rachel was, indeed, lying on Charlie Fabray's bed, head tilted as far back against the pillow as it could go and staring at the ceiling. She had already looked around the room, in hopes of gaining some idea of what she was doing there.

The petite singer had already ascertained that it was Saturday morning, although she possessed hardly any memories of Friday night. She remembered, of course, that she had attended Noah Puckerman's party the previous evening. However, everything after Charlie had shared her story with the Glee club became increasingly blurry. She did remember something which might have been a drinking game, sufficient explanation for the hangover she had woken up to, perhaps.

Although that didn't really explain why she had woken up cuddling with Quinn Fabray.

Rachel sneaked a glance down at the cheerleader. The other girl was completely out of it, one arm thrown around the diva's waist, face pressed against the singer's sternum and breathing deeply and peacefully. The brunette's fingers were idly stroking through the rich golden locks as she turned the situation over in her mind.

Since thinking seemed to yield nothing and no answers looked to be appearing from thin air, Rachel steeled her nerves and gently pushed the HBIC's arm off.

_Here's to hoping she's a heavy sleeper._

=P =P =P

"You have a lot of explaining to do, Charlotte Fabray."

Charlie stopped typing and lifted her gaze from the laptop. Across the kitchen table was her best friend, looking pissed.

"I have a fully legitimate explanation for everything, Rach," the blonde winced slightly as Rachel's glare bore down on her. She took the pair of reading glasses off and rubbed at her eyes with her knuckles.

"Well, I'm waiting," the evil best friend from hung-over hell practically growled and pursed her lips.

"Aaah... Where do you want me to start?"

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I apologize that it took me so long to post this chapter, but life certainly got in the way. A big 'thank you' to everyone who took the time to read my little story and a (slightly) bigger one to everyone who reviewed.

Chapter 4

"So you are telling me that since Quinn and I were too drunk to take care of ourselves, you decided to get us in one place to..."

"Be able to look after both of you at the same time, yes, Rach."

"And Quinn was in her underwear because?"

"She threw up all over herself and I had to get her out of her clothes."

"She was snuggled up to me."

"Mhmm."

"Charlie!"

"She's a cuddler. There's nothing I can do about that... Actually, you _both_ seemed to be enjoying yourselves," Charlie grinned at her best friend who sat across from her at the kitchen table, nursing a glass of orange juice.

Rachel glared at her for a bit, but when the grin started bordering on a taunting smirk instead of disappearing, the brunette sighed and hung her head.

"I like being held. In my defense, I had no idea it was your sister holding me."

"Does it matter?"

Before the petite singer could open her mouth to reply to that dig, however, two slices of bread practically shot out of the toaster. which was conveniently placed right behind her blond friend, and sailed through the air. Charlie jumped, startled.

"Damn it! How do they deal with this blasted thing?"

The diva just laughed at her quietly and she pouted.

"Are you sure you don't want anything for breakfast, Rach?" Charlie asked as spread butter on both slices of bread and then put them on a plate.

"Absolutely positive. My stomach hates me."

"Aw, you poor thing. Okay, I'm gonna go wake the beast now."

The blonde was at the door when Rachel spoke,

"Be careful, Char. Make sure she doesn't eat you."

"Nah, I hear she prefers little brunettes," Charlie sniggered and ran up the stairs with the plate in hand.

=P=P=P

Almost a month had passed since that first week of school and Rachel Berry had already broken her vow of never drinking again the previous weekend, no thanks to her best friend Charlie Fabray. At least, Rachel mused, the first time had been somewhat justified by the shock she had experienced at the discovery that _both_ Fabray twins had in a way been kicked out of their home. The second time, though, was the diva's own fault, as she had foolishly agreed with her friend's idea to play beer pong against each other and _then_ made the unfortunate decision of asking Kurt to be her partner, while Charlie had wisely chosen her sister. The night, predictably, resulted in Rachel's waking up in the same bed with Quinn, but this time being spooned by the blond Cheerio.

For that reason, the duo had settled on spending this Friday night in, watching movies in Charlie's home ("_Mom's out doing who-knows-what with her crazy friends."_).

And that's how they ended up arguing over which movie they would watch (Charlie's _The Fellowship of the Ring_ vs. Rachel's _The Notebook_). The 'debate' had been going strong during the whole day at school and neither would concede her point. They were still bickering when they entered the house, hours later.

"Come on, Rachel, can't you pick something else? I'd even watch _Cabaret_. But _The Notebook_? I'm going to die of boredom before the first _ten minutes_ are over!"

"No," Rachel stood her ground.

"_Funny Girl_?" Charlie tried to entice her again.

"No, Charlie!"

The little singer was the first to step inside the living room, followed immediately by her blond best friend, who was still trying to talk her out of her movie choice.

"Please, Rach..."

"_**Jesus, Scribbler! What is the matter with you?"**_

Both girls froze and then slowly turned to face the couch. Quinn was sitting in the middle of it, one hand holding a remote, the other supporting a huge bowl of popcorn on her lap. She had obviously planned to stay in herself, as she was dressed in a loose pair of white yoga pants and a large sage green t-shirt which looked like it could have been Finn's.

"Hello, Quinn. I was just in the process of proving to Charlie the merits of..." the brunette began, but was swiftly interrupted,

"I am not watching that movie, Rachel Berry. NO. WAY."

"But _The Notebook_..." Rachel pouted as she was again interrupted.

"What are you watching?" Charlie turned to her sister.

Quinn had been observing them with keen interest at first, but was now staring at her popcorn intently. She chewed lightly on her bottom lip at the question, then took her time soothing the bite with a swipe of her tongue before looking up and answering quietly, almost hesitantly,

"_The Notebook_."

"See," the diva squealed victoriously at that. "Even Quinn agrees."

Now it was Charlie's turn to pout and she did, accompanying it with an audible whimper.

"Do you mind?" she asked the cheerleader, who just shook her head in reply. "Okay then, make yourselves comfortable. I'm going to, um, get my laptop."

Then she stomped off, muttering to herself. Rachel and Quinn, left awkwardly behind, could hear some of the words and they sounded suspiciously like 'stupid', 'stubborn' and 'headphones'.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Rachel shifted on her end of the couch for possibly the tenth time in just as many minutes, turning to look over her shoulder before twisting back to stare at her lap. Then she glanced quickly to the right where Quinn was curled up on the opposite end. The blonde had folded her legs up and was hugging them tightly to her body. Her gaze was fixed firmly forward and she hadn't moved it from the moment she set it there (Rachel was sure). The Cheerio seemed almost catatonic.

"Okay, I'm ready. Commence the torture!"

Both girls jumped a little when Charlie jogged into the room, laptop under her arm and a pair of headphones around her neck. The 'prodigal' twin walked around the couch and came to a stop.

"Or not... Rach, move over."

The little brunette looked up at her quizzically for a moment. The realization, however, set in swiftly and then her mouth fell slightly open.

"What? No. There is nothing wrong with sitting in the middle, Charlie. Furthermore, I do not think your sister will appreciate my being placed next to her," the diva said in one breath, as though the words had been fighting to get out for a long time.

"Well, do I look like I care?" Charlie smirked and raised an eyebrow at her sister and best friend. "One of you is going to move. I'm not about to sit in the middle while you two watch... _**that**_."

At the last word, she waved her hand in the vague direction of the TV while making a face that expressed utter distaste.

Rachel squinted at her best friend and visibly swallowed.

It had come to her attention a while ago that when Charlie didn't want people to know what went on inside her head, no one having a clue was what she got. The younger twin ("_She's older than me by 10 and a half minutes, Rach, but she's always holding it over my head! How is that fair?_) never became expressionless, like her sister did, she didn't become bitchy; she didn't even change the subject. Instead, a winsome smile would settle on her face and she'd speak to you with seemingly perfect sincerity, bestowing upon you what you would later (with some luck) recognize as largely omitting half-truths.

The singer had become somewhat adept at distinguishing the instances when that particular behavioral trait would make its appearance, and even though it was a sneering smirk that stretched across her friend's features now, she knew that she at least was being played.

The brunette stole a glance at Quinn. _She knows._ The cheerleader sat absolutely still again. Her eyes, however, were on her twin and they were filled with a strange intensity, pupils wide with something akin to a primal fear while the irises burned like rings of swirling gold around them. Close to pleading, although not quite that. A gasp fought to escape Rachel's throat, but she pushed it down and forced her train of thought into movement.

Whatever motive Charlie had to insist on taking one end of the couch, as the childish reason she had presented was just that – childish and ridiculous, her sister knew about and was involved in it. The diva was certain. If the emotion in the HBIC's gaze was deceiving (which it was not), the telltale sign of her experiencing strong emotion was like a shining beacon to Rachel's eyes: a plump, pink bottom lip was clasped firmly between the blonde's teeth and her jaw was trembling ever so slightly, almost convulsively moving very slowly up and down.

_Stop staring,_ Rachel thought suddenly, as though just realizing what she had been doing all along. Her head snapped back to turn toward Charlie so quickly that she heard a faint pop.

Her best friend was smiling knowingly at her. The brunette frowned back, frustrated with everything. She didn't understand what Charlie was thinking, but she was somewhat used to that; now she didn't understand what _she_ was thinking either.

"Oh, alright!" she huffed out and scooted to the middle of the couch sulkily. Through it all, she found that she was (frustratingly) aware of Quinn tensing up as the space between their bodies shrunk and that an answering tension took over her own muscles.

"I'm turning the movie on now, so don't you dare interrupt, Charles," the Cheerio sent a warning glare to the left, over the singers head, and raised the remote up. "And all I wanted was a quiet night in..." she sighed with exasperation.

"Aye, captain!"

=P=P=P

Rachel felt Charlie yawn somewhere to the left and knew she had fallen asleep.

She had been rather tired by the time school had ended, but in the hours leading up to their movie night what little energy she had saved was wrung from her body.

Now she felt sleepy, and warm, and really, really lazy. Everything was a bit fuzzy round the edges, but that was just another reason for her not to find it reality relevant in the least. Her brain was swimming in a tropical sea of watermelon and mint and she snuggled closer to the warm source of the enticing scent.

Rachel knew that particular scent. She had woken up to it before, though then it had been dulled by the pungent odor of alcohol.

_Mhmm... That's Quinn,_ the more conscious, rational part of her informed.

_Oh! We're not drunk. Why are we cuddling?_ the rest asked.

_I like it._

_That's... acceptable then. Do you mind if I go back to sleep?_

_Not at all. Feel free to proceed._

=P=P=P

When the petite singer woke again, it was morning. She was still warm and comfortable, but renewed vigor bounced about her small body. And so she felt the need to move.

She carefully extricated herself from the mess of limbs and blankets on the couch where she had spent the night and made her way upstairs to Charlie's bathroom.

Half an hour later and morning hygiene taken care of, the brunette was dancing her way through breakfast preparation.

"Good morning, Rachel."

The girl jumped up in the air, flailed a bit, her lithe frame losing all balance, and then turned to look back in the direction of the kitchen door...

Where Judy Williams (previously Fabray) standing, lightly chuckling into her palm.

"Good morning, Ms. Williams," Rachel tried to say as calmly and politely as possible around her furious, all-out embarrassed blush.

"Just call me Judy, dear," the older woman smiled. "I hope I didn't scare you."

The singer shook her head quickly, "No, not at all, Ms.- Judy."

"Good, then. You know, you shouldn't make breakfast for the lazybones back there," the woman indicated back towards the living room. "I'm sure I tried to instill some manners on them when they were younger..." she added jokingly.

"Oh, no, I rather enjoy cooking. It really is a pleasure, Judy," Rachel returned her smile bashfully. "Actually, thank you for the egg substitute," the petite brunette nodded to a container on the counter.

"It was no trouble, dear."

Just then another blond figure approached the kitchen slowly, stifling a yawn.

"Mmm... What's for breakfast?" the blond girl practically moaned out, voice thick with sleep.

"OH NO!" Rachel jumped in horror for a second time that morning and turned back to flip a crepe over in a pan on the stove.

The other girl, Quinn (the singer recognized the t-shirt), shuffled over to the plate of already prepared food on the counter and grabbed the conveniently placed jar of blueberry jam, poured it generously over a pancake, rolled the mess up and then delicately took a bite.

The Cheerio's eyebrow rose as she chewed slowly, and she moaned again, this time in pleasure.

"Nice, Berry," she managed to say through her next bite. "You aren't so bad, after all."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"_**I am not in any way, shape or form attracted to Charlotte Fabray."**_

"_Why am I not attracted to her? She is physically attractive, has a wonderful singing voice (of course, lacking my many years of vocal training), is an engaging conversationalist and can more than match me on an intellectual level... She is a poet... Charlie's nice and she __**understands**__! Why don't I like her?"_

"_**Because the two of us do not **__click __**together in any way that is more than platonic. We are too similar in some regards and too different in others, we clash."**_

"_A satisfying romantic relationship does need some fire, passion. That is precisely the reason Finn and I never did work out."_

"_**There is an abundance of reasons for the end of **__that __**relationship, though admittedly the absence of any sort of spark between us was among the greater ones..."**_

"_I can swear I remember I felt the beginnings of a crush on her just before she left- was sent away. It is impossible for one person to change in such radical way in so short a time."_

"_**It has been more than two years."**_

"_I would hardly forget the first time I was romantically attracted to someone."_

"_**However, there is the possibility that my feelings were simply misplaced."**_

"_Who could it have been then?"_

"_**I was not acquainted with Finn back then..."**_

"_Brittany and Santana are absolutely out of question."_

"_**Noah?"**_

"_I am positive it was a girl, now that I have given it some thought."_

"_**There is the obvious second choice of-"**_

"_No!"_

"_**No?"**_

"_Charlie and I must have both changed considerably in the last two years. That is all."_

"Who're talking to, Rach?"

Rachel abruptly stopped in the middle of another step and turned slowly around. She had obviously been pacing by the window, completely absorbed in her... conversation.

Charlie stood by the door with an amused expression, arms folded in front of her chest.

"Your dad let me in," she said as an explanation before crossing the room to sit on her friend's bed. Then she addressed the singer again, „Well, who were you talking to? Or was this just an acting exercise?"

The brunette blinked owlishly a few times, genuinely confused. It was rather disconcerting to be caught in the middle of a discussion with herself by the object of her musings.

"No, no. I was just... thinking aloud," she mumbled, feeling suddenly inadequate. The little diva wasn't used to expressing her inner thoughts to anyone. Sure, she could talk for hours on end, but she would be the first to admit that in a situation where she was expected to share her real emotions, she used her verbosity as a means of evasion and rarely revealed anything of consequence. It was a part of her character she had picked up when she had started elementary school, to protect herself from the childish cruelty of her classmates.

"What about?" Charlie asked with a voice full of curiosity. Rachel remembered that Charlie had always been this way, filled with an insurmountable need to know about and understand every and anything. The petite girl often delighted in that particular trait of her friend, because curiosity was just about the only thing to make the usually lazy, passive and slightly apathetic blonde brim with energy. The way her eyes would start shining with fascination when she was learning about something new and interesting was plainly captivating.

But right now Rachel felt the need to be left alone, felt the need to leave her feelings alone, so she just shrugged as nonchalantly as she could and smiled, "You wouldn't want to know."

"Yeah? Try me."

A sound between a sigh and a snort erupted from her. _There is no fairness in this world,_ she thought, closely echoing one of her friend's catchphrases.

"It is not at all relevant, believe me," she enunciated slowly, as though hoping she could get away with not answering if she stalled long enough. She did know better, though.

"If it was that irrelevant, you would have just told me," Charlie drawled just as slowly, with just a hint of mocking to her tone. It was a game they hadn't played for a very, very long time and the blonde seemed quite eager to try it again.

"Has it not occurred to you that maybe it is on a topic I would feel uncomfortable discussing with others?" the singer made one last feeble effort to repel the attack. Granted, it was a futile effort, but it was still something and she felt the need to congratulate herself on coming up with the excuse. It would undoubtedly have worked on anyone else.

"Now what would _that_ be? You've never shown any signs of possessing a filter before," her friend chuckled out, and it might have been offensive if not for the playful sparks in those hazel-green eyes. Rachel sighed again.

"I am only telling you this under the complete confidence that whatever is said here will not, in any way, be repeated before another individual."

She had never been a good liar. For all her talent as an actress, even her smallest, most insignificant white lies would be uncovered the moment she uttered the words. It just wouldn't do to try lying to Charlotte; the girl smelled the lies miles away. _Takes one to know one_, she thought as she moved to sit on the bed as well.

Blond eyebrows rose slightly and Charlie's lips parted in surprise. Her gaze turned serious in an instant and then, when she spoke, her voice was deeper, quiet and reassuring, "There's... nothing wrong, is there?"

"No, not really," Rachel smiled gently at her best friend, a pleasant warmth spreading in her chest at the concerned response she had received. It was nice to finally be able to trust someone.

"What is it, then?"

"I thought I had a crush on you."

Best come out and get it over with.

"For real?" the expression on Charlie's face conveyed an intriguing mix of amusement and disbelief. The diva hadn't the faintest no idea what to make of it.

"Yes. But I am not attracted to you and I was attempting to comprehend why not. Not that long ago, I had no one who was... nice to me, and I am aware of my tendency to latch on to anyone who is. It doesn't make sense."

Charlie laughed. It was a full, body-shaking laughter that made the girl flail her arms around and tilt her head back in elation. Rachel frowned in confusion.

"What? What's so funny?"

"That... explains... Finn," was the reply and it earned the blonde a smack to the stomach. "Hey! Don't hit me! It's all Quinn's fault," she continued after she had caught her breath.

"It's your sister's fault that I don't understand why I do not harbor a crush on you?"

"Umm... Now that's an interesting idea..." Charlie grinned up at Rachel from where she had fallen back on the bed in her spasm-inducing bout of hysterics. "It's her fault that no one was nice to you. It's 'cause she's really stupid."

"Now what would you mean by that?"

"I'll tell you later."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I'm really sorry that I took so long with this chapter, but real life has kicking my ass for the last two months. I'll try to be faster with the next part.

Chapter 7

"So, what are we doing?"

_Do not trust Charlie Fabray. Repeat, do not trust Charlie Fabray unless it is your life you trust her with._

This was probably the first thing in Rachel's mind when you mentioned her best friend. It hadn't been exactly a surprise for the tiny singer to find out that Charlotte could be just as ruthless and manipulative as her twin (if not more). The pretty blonde always planned and schemed, and hardly ever let anyone in on her inner thoughts. And at some point after their reunion, Rachel had started remembering little details about their mutual playground past that had previously eluded her. Like Charlie's and hers brilliant ideas that their whole group of friends would always follow, or how it often came down to Quinn and Brittany being their sweet, mild-mannered selves to keep all of them out of trouble… It had been their own custom social dynamic, which they had been forced to change as they grew up, but evidently it had all remained buried deep inside Charlie. The girl still lived by many of the old rules and she seemed to rope everyone close enough right back into her games.

It wasn't drama queen behavior, Rachel mused, her best friend just liked to make life more exciting. And being a fellow schemer, the vertically-challenged diva found herself at the heart of most of these small, everyday adventures, surprisingly (or maybe not), together with Quinn and often Santana and Brittany.

Charlie's return had been like a portal into the past. Without realizing how it had happened, the pocket-sized singer found herself in the constant company of her old tormentors and even older friends. It hit her like a ton of bricks when one morning Santana of all people came by her locker, threw an arm around her shoulders and dragged her away with a smile that looked believably genuine and a nonchalant "Morning, Lil' Berry". That particular nickname hadn't been in use for years.

"What do you think, Berry?"

"Huh?" the diva jerked her head up from where she had thoughtfully been resting her chin in her palm when her back was tugged against the front of somebody considerably taller.

"You should really pay more attention, Rach. You know Char gets impatient when you don't. And San will think you're daydreaming about someone again," Brittany said seriously into her ear while hugging the smaller girl tightly.

"I was just reminiscing, Brittany," Rachel smiled widely at the airy blonde and twisted in her arms to hug her back. "And what should I have been paying attention to?"

Taking advantage of Rachel's fathers' going out to dinner, the five girls had gathered at the Berrys' home for a girls' night as they had gotten used to doing in the last almost two months. They had settled in the living room a few hours ago, and had since methodically destroyed a vast array of junk food (much to the hostess' initial outrage). The current topic of conversation seemed to be the celebration of Christmas, which was a week away, and judging by the way Charlie was wildly gesticulating with her hands, she obviously had something in mind.

"Baby Poet wants us all to get together on Christmas Eve," Santana's voice rang from where she was sitting on Brittany's other side. The two cheerleaders and the singer had taken the couch while the twins occupied the loveseat.

"But isn't Christmas a central Christian holiday? I had thought you would want to spend it with your families?"

"Nah, me and Quinn are the only Christians in this room," the Latina chimed in again.

"Yeah, Rach, my parents are atheists. I always spend Christmas with San," Brittany confirmed.

"And I'm an undefined as of yet deist," Charlie looked up at her best friend from where she was lying with her head in her sister's lap and her legs hanging over the armrest of the loveseat. "I'm really not a fan of centralized religion, no offense, Quinn… I'm thinking I could be Wiccan…"

That last remark earned her a pinch on the cheek from Quinn who had up to that moment been playing with her hair. There was something rather fascinating about the effect the twins had on each other. Rachel had noticed a while back, when they had first began hanging out, that Quinn seemed to relax in the presence of her sister. The head Cheerio would become a lot more laid back, calm when her sister was around. The same effect could sometimes be observed with Brittany and Santana, but to a much lesser degree.

It was the opposite with Charlie. The girl would become somewhat more… edgy; her tongue – sharper. At times the petite singer thought that her best friend was trying to bait Quinn, provoking her in a way that she had only ever seen Santana attempt. It was, however, far more intimate between the twins. Rachel could swear that it was most likely another one of the poet's big schemes.

"Still, won't you be celebrating with your mother?"

"No, she's going to be visiting Frank," Charlie pouted both at the idea and the pinch and proceeded to poke her sister in the ribs. The cheerleader squirmed to escape the rogue hand and flicked Charlie's nose in retribution.

"Who's Frank?" Brittany asked, giggling when Charlie tried to bite Quinn's fingers but almost ended up with a thumb up her nose, after which she decided to settle back down since she very obviously did not have the upper hand in that fight,

"She's visiting Frannie. Older sister," Quinn clarified.

"Oh, devil's spawn," Santana snorted.

"Why aren't you going then?" the tiny diva made a note to herself to thank Brittany later for voicing her own question.

"Well, as far as Frannie's concerned, Charlie's gay…" the older twin started.

"… and Quinn had a child out of wedlock, which makes her persona non grata as well," the younger continued.

"They were supposed to stay with me," the Latina concluded. "But Mami won't mind if we relocated to Casa Fabray." (_"If we promised there won't be liquor,__"_ she mumbled afterwards.)

"Your dads will let you, right, Rachel? You're Jewish so…?" Brittany asked and hugged her even tighter.

TBC


End file.
